Love Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me
by Daughter of the Black
Summary: And sometimes, Doctor, sometimes the best things in life…are…the very most wrong things of all.' There was a brutal truth to her words, a truth Jack, and even the Doctor could never deny. JackBuffyDoctor
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.

A/N: This just kind of came to me while I was watching the episode Parting of Ways. I've been working on this for a number of weeks, and i have a few chapters written. I'll try to update once a week.

* * *

Jack stared wide-eyed as the TARDIS pulsed out of existence, his mind screaming the words that his voice couldn't. _No, no, don't leave me. Doctor, Rose! No!_ The floor rose to meet his knees, and he couldn't feel the pain of connecting with the stone floor. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes, this was wrong. Everything was wrong. He should be with the Doctor and Rose celebrating. No, no.

Jack's voice was strangled when it finally met the empty space, "Dead, I should be dead."

The last remnants of whooshing faded into nothing and Jack kneeled on the floor, eyes glazed, looking past everything. It could have been minutes, hours, days, weeks, even months that Jack remained there, motionless, tears hovering just out of sight.

A klaxon blared above the captain, "Warning. Section X649 requires immediate service. Warning. Section X649 requires immediate service."

Shaken from his daze, Captain Jack Harkness rose unsteadily to his feet, blood surged in his veins. His ankles were limp and he fell to the ground heavily, his arms barely breaking his fall.

Wincing, Jack rolled over he pressed his hands to his chest. It was in that instant that the world caught up with him. A shard of metal bounced up and down with his heartbeat—it was lodged in his heart.

Jack laughed roughly, "Well, this is new."

Shaking his head tiredly, Jack wrenched the metal from his breast as darkness consumed him. Amazingly he could feel the liquid pour from him and his limbs go cold, his heart stop. But he was aware of everything around him.

His mind clouded for a second in pure pain as his heart throbbed into action again, and his vision returned and sharpened. Sitting up, Jack stared down at his bloodied vest and t-shirt.

"That is definitely not normal, but then again, what's normal."

"Warning. Section X649 requires immediate service."

Jack scowled, just what he needed, the stupid satellite to fall to pieces while he was on it. Rushing over to the computer he quickly tapped into the mainframe and perused the schematics. X649 was a floor below and apparently a sealed chamber. The logs attached read that over 250 years had passed since it was last opened.

Jack, armed to the teeth, well, as much as a metal pole could fulfill that status, approached the door. There was a 'condemned' sign hung over the only half-there labeling. The klaxon was blaring, and a red light flashed brightly.

The door was open a crack, a pile of dust before it. A Dalek. Again his mind returned to the truth, he should be dead, twice dead, and yet he lived.

Adjusting his grip on the pole with a sigh, Jack advanced slowly. Nudging the door open with the pole he squinted into the darkness. Fumbling slightly he switched on the torch that he'd ripped from his gun. Sweeping it across the unknown space it flashed on something against the back wall. Swallowing hard he prayed to whatever was out there that it wasn't a big bad alien. Swinging the light back he scanned up and down before swearing harshly.

It was alive, whatever it was, and it was chained to the wall. Advancing, the creature didn't struggle to get to him, in fact whatever it was pressed further against the wall. Jack crouched down and laid down the pole. He made soft shushing noises as he advanced.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you."

A distinctly human looking arm moved to cover what Jack guessed was only its face, then it whimpered as if in pain.

Jack scuttled forwards again, the light from his torch bouncing, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Jack pleaded as he hastily switched off the torch.

Plunged into darkness, Jack struggled again to see, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

The whimpering subsided and Jack released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"What are you?"

Husky, the voice was clearly human, a female.

"No…girl. Just a girl."

Jack smiled slightly, "My name is Jack, I'd like to help you."

The girl uncurled slightly, "They've all said that, but they leave me. They always leave me."

Jack shook his head, the sorrow in her voice made him shudder, "I promise, I won't leave you."

It didn't matter what she was, no creature deserved to be trapped in a room alone for centuries.

"Can't help it, time, can't stop time."

Jack dismissed her mumbling, "Are you hurt?"

Slowly, Jack stretched out his hand, his fingers brushing against smooth skin. There was a layer of dirt covering her, for a room that hadn't been opened in 200 plus years it was to be expected.

"Please," she begged.

* * *

Please review! This is my baby--err--one of my babies. Ha, i just hope you all love my precious as much as i do.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.

A/N: This just kind of came to me while I was watching the episode Parting of Ways.

* * *

Staring at the ceiling, Buffy Anne Summers wallowed in self pity. There was no point to not doing so. Faces she hadn't seen in a millennia and change were there. Unchanged, unforgiving as ever.

Jack had always told her there was no guarantee, but some grain of hope had stuck with her through everything. Hope that they would be safe, happy, okay. They were foolishly still hunting demons and vampires—though now not on the Sunnydale Hellmouth, but in Cleveland. Xander had two eyes and was constantly fighting with his wife, Anya, Tara was angry with a black eyed Willow, Dawn dropped out of school, and Giles was supporting them all. Angel and his gang were going strong in Los Angeles, battling a coven of sorcerers. And Spike, Spike was knee deep in bottles of Jack.

Still, Buffy didn't know if this was an improvement on the other dimension. Part of her wanted to run up to them the first day back, but she knew better, she had to stay away from them, nothing good could come of it. It was Willow's confidence after her resurrection that had destroyed the witch. This time she failed, perhaps that would be her saving grace this time around.

Sighing, the slayer glanced at the disposable phone that she always kept within reach.

_No Messages._

It blinked with a fury that irritated her to desperation. It had taken her months to get used to the technology again. Jack had pretty much thrashed his watch with all the time travel they had been doing. Sometimes Jack and Buffy got stuck for decades, other times minutes. Their last home had been 1983, what a year. Jack had some how managed to get them invited to the 55th Academy Awards. She had asked how, but he wouldn't say…she could only guess that it had involved copious amounts of flirting with the coordinator. There were some things in her life that just weren't worth asking about.

They phoned every day without fail. Being separated by a big pond was not something that was all that conducive to taking care of each other. Buffy had been forbidden from being in America for five years because of some paradoxy thingy. Jack had settled down in Cardiff right away and built up Torchwood. Buffy had stayed hidden, doing things she had never dreamed she would. Climb Everest without oxygen tanks, trekked through the Sahara and Antarctic deserts, lived in the Brazilian Rainforest, and worked in Egypt as an archaeologist (She and Jack had spent a fair amount of time living during the pharaohs era—70 years).

The moment she was sure she could go back, the start of Will's junior year at the University of Sunnyhell, Buffy had booked the first flight to Los Angeles. Although in hindsight she probably would have swum all the way there, she was that eager.

Jack…It was Jack that had saved her all those years ago in the future. It was Jack who was her constant companion. It was Jack who stood the test of time. He was it.

But time does take a toll on everybody. Jack had finally decided to stay—which had more to do with Buffy than anything else in the world. He however was sitting on top of the Cardiff Rift, Buffy Summers was haunting Cleveland.

Despite their near stalker behavior towards the other, they both had things to do. Jack was waiting for his Doctor, and Buffy was watching and protecting. It had been decided too long ago. Maybe they decided the very first day that Buffy spoke coherently, Buffy couldn't really remember it wasn't important anyway.

* * *

Please Review, show the love.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.  
A/N: I know that a lot of you are confuddled about this…but don't worry, it's meant to be like that…wow…that's a weird concept. Any-who, the chapters will get much longer—hehe, as in several thousand words…so bear with me…next chapter will be one of those dreadfully long chapters.

_

* * *

_

Game Station, the year 200,100

Jack pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to relieve some of the pulsing pain in his head. As the bright lights faded from his vision, his eyes focused on the red slashes marking the wall opposite him.

One Week before the girl didn't flinch from his mere presence.

Sighing heavily the newly immortal man picked at the fraying cuff of his pants. He had to figure a way off this piece of wreckage. All of the comm. devices were down and irreparable. Besides, who would he call? He was pretty sure The Doctor wasn't listed in any phone book.

16 Days before Jack could touch her with more than his finger tips.

Tipping his head backward Captain Jack Harkness relished in the physical pain of his head connecting with the metal paneling. Anything to remind him he was well and truly alive. Alive, funny notion given he should have been dead.

3 Weeks before her eyes were acclimated.

Rose never took this long to get ready. The girl had been in her cell—room, Jack reminded himself—for nearly an hour. He had managed to salvage some clothing from some of the games, and his only companion was supposed to be dressing.

One Month before she allowed him to watch her eat.

The door next to him was open a crack for both of their comforts. Jack couldn't help but smile at the frustrated grunts and whimpers coming from inside. It was much the same way when he had attempted to teach her how to use the shower and silverware.

42 Days before Jack had convinced her to wash up.

There were three things Jack did everyday. He added a new slash of blood to the wall to mark the passing of time, he swept up a pile of Dalek, and he sat with her. That was it, he found it hard to care when he was alone.

Two Months before she slept in his presence.

The door creaked open further and a little more light spilled across the floor. Jack looked over and found her crouched beside him, their noses almost touching. Jack chuckled under his breath and ghosted one hand down her, now smooth, hair.

She hadn't spoken again.

"J—Jack."

The name was forced from between her lips, the letters sounding hard and flat. He faltered at the sound. He smiled.

"Yes. Jack," he pulled her hand to his chest, as his mother had done with baby Gray.

She smiled brightly, another first. Jack chuckled again, her pride infectious. He would have flung his arms around her, but despite her progress she was still skittish. A thunk of metal machinery melted the smile off her face.

"Don't like it here."

Jack tightened his hold of her fingers, "Me either. We'll go home, I'll find a way."

Buffy shook her head, hair falling over her face, "Home is gone, everyone gone. Long before. Years."

Jack frowned, "You survived this long, maybe the others did too. Where are you from?"

Of all the answers he could have gotten, the one he did get rocked him to his core.

"Home, California, Earth."

He should have known, she was speaking English, not the stiff 'Flat' and 'Lift' English of Rose and The Doctor. This was his English, his valley girl and cowboy English.

"When?"

Most people questioned that question. Not her, not his apparently, and surprisingly, human girl.

"2003 A.D."

The lump in Jack's throat pulsed as he did the math, "198,097 years, it's been 198,907 years."

"Oh," the dejection, or rather, Jack suspected the void of emotion, was all that could be heard. "So that's it. Trapped on flotsam floating in space…forever?"

Jack shook his head and snapped off his wristband. The one he never took off no matter what. Smiling he clasped it around her wrist.

"This is how we get off, it may not look like much, but if we can get it juiced up…we can go back."

His blue eyes glittering with awe, the girl believed him.

"Home, I have to watch them, they need me."

Jack cupped her face with one hand, "Promise."

In that moment when her warm cheek was pressed against his palm he knew he would follow her. Do whatever she needed him to do. He wanted to know every detail about her. He wanted to know how she took her coffee, what she thought of reality television, who her favorite actor was, and each and every scar she had besides the circular marks on the crook of her neck.

It was those wishes that made Jack laugh at himself in the darkness when she slept. He wanted a girl who he didn't know. Captain Jack Harkness wanted a girl whose name he didn't know.

* * *

Thanks to all those that reviewed, I love you for it…no really. And please to continue to review, they make my painful, annoying, college 'homework' less irritating…as it is…I'm supposed to be writing a speech—too bad I decided to update instead….hahaha take that Comm teacher.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood, or Robert Frost's poem Stopping By Woods on A Snowy Eve.  
A/N: This was literally the first chapter I wrote…I thought about it, and wouldn't season one be a bit different if Buffy and Jack knew each other…these are some of the scenes (one from each eppy) that popped into my head.

* * *

A pretty brunette walked through the hub door and up to the platform, hesitation in every step. Her name, Gwen surfaced slowly.

"There's you pizza, I think I better go," she was indeed carrying a pizza.

Jack glanced up from his paperwork, face blank, "I think we've gone past that stage."

An almost snort of laughter came from a curly haired woman, Suzie, "You must have been freezing out there, how long were you walking round, three hours?"

Gwen swallowed, her nerves humming and eyes bugged out, "You could see me."

Suzie made another noncommittal noise before turning away.

Jack stood at last and walked around the desk to stand hands on hips, "And before we go any further, who the hell orders pizza under the name 'Torchwood'."

Owen, the skin and bones doctor blushed and raised his hand timidly, "Erm… yeah, that would be me. Sorry. I'm twat."

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, "Zeppo much?"

Everyone in the room gazed blankly at the Captain.

A pout spread across Jack's lips, "I miss people who get my pop culture."

* * *

The Torchwood Team was gathered around a grainy television monitor watching a tape play. A videotape of a lavatory couple—coupling.

"Wow," Jack's eyes widened as he cocked his head to the side.

Toshiko swallowed harshly, "Oh, my God! He just…"

Jack bit back his smirk, "Came and went," he deadpanned.

Owen snickered behind a raised hand, "That's the way I'd like to go.

The man on screen had burst into sparkling dust, the girl was perfectly fine.

Tosh glared back at him, "I'm sure we could arrange it."

Gwen slipped into the tiny office looking a bit off just in time to hear Jack sigh.

"What is it with creatures and the death and sex trick—overgrown praying mantises."

* * *

Gwen walked into the underground shooting range, "Jack?"

Jack set down the gun he had been handling on the table and spun to face his newest recruit. Jack beckoned her forward, and Gwen walked to the table to join him.

The range at last truly visible to her, Gwen's breath hitched, "Whoa."

Jack smiled and tipped his head at the weapons displayed for her use. Her eyes were glossy round.

"You need to know how to use these. Though I hope you never have to," Jack intoned.

Gwen looked uncertainly at him, "So, do I...?"  
In the silence she laughed and averted her eyes to the floor.

"I'm sorry, it's just…I don't even kill spiders in the bath."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Nor do I, not with a gun."

They laugh for a moment, the tension broken before Jack looked thoughtfully at the glock inches from his hand.

"…except for this one time my roommate freaked out and rightly, it was three feet wide. After that one we made a deal, I taught her how to shoot them and I cleaned up after."

* * *

Jack looked at the young boy with what could have been pity, "Ianto, you have to believe me. There is no cure. There never will be. Those who are converted stay that way. Your girlfriend will not be the exception."

Tears leaked from the corners of Ianto's eyes, "You can't know that for sure."

Jack shook his head, patience nearing its end, "Look, you need to know what's happening here. Because _this,_ is where these things start. Small decisions that become mass slaughter. These creatures regain a foothold by exploiting human weakness. Then they take a base. Rebuild their forces. And before you know it, the Cyber race is spreading out across the universe, erasing worlds, assimilating populations. All because of the tiny beginnings here. We need to stop her...together!"

"You're not listening to me! The conversion was never completed," Ianto was desperate. This was Lisa, his Lisa.

"She already tried to kill Gwen! You think she's gonna stop there? There is no turning back for her now," Jack ground out.

Flustered, Ianto choked back his sobs, "I'm ... not giving up on her. I love her. Can you understand that, Jack? Haven't you ever loved anyone?"

Jack froze, facing turning harder than diamonds before he nodded, "And I know that she would never want to live this way. Never! That isn't her, it isn't Lisa. Accept that."

* * *

A much changed Estelle stood before a small group of listeners, a projector showing photos of fairies on the screen behind her.

Her war ravaged voice warbled a bit, "I suppose I'm one of the fortunate few who's been allowed to see our little friends."

The back door opened and Jack and Gwen slipped into the room. Jack smiled brightly at Estelle and her back straightened almost instantly.

"And it's been no easy task. One needs to have the patience of a saint and the blind faith of a prophet," she continued lecturing.

Estelle sighed, her smile still in place, "But for me the long wait has been worthwhile."

The photograph changed again.

"I don't believe this," Gwen huffed.

Jack quickly shushed the girl.

Estelle gazed at the picture, "Well, of course, I'm not the world's best photographer. But this little person is just about visible. I was so lucky to have seen them, so privileged to witness such a magical moment. Because fairies are shy, you see."

It was her next words that made Jack lean forward and a soft, genuine smile to light his face.

"When I was a young girl of twenty-five, I had two of the greatest friends. My best friend, oh she was so special. The fairies, they let her dance with them, and she seemed so at peace with them. They accepted her unlike any other before or after. She balanced us out, she believed they were neutral. Our other friend saw only the bad, but I know in my heart that they're friendly, loving creatures."

Estelle clutched a hand to her chest as she flipped the projector off, "Thank you."

The attendees applauded politely as they rose and filtered out of the auditorium.

Jack still sat, his eyes unfocused, seeing through the years that had passed.

* * *

Jack smiled indulgently at his team as he glanced down at the clipboard he was holding. Only his team could fight aliens one minute and be chatting animatedly about their last 'snog' the next. Tucking the clipboard into the SUV Captain Jack Harkness sauntered over and folded himself into one of the camping chairs just as Gwen was begging Tosh to leave something alone.

Owen smirked as he set eyes on his boss, "Jack?"

Jack inhaled and then sighed, "Are we including non-human life forms?"

Gwen's nose scrunched upwards, "Oh, you haven't!"

Owen snickered as he shook his head, just a little proud of Jack, "You're a sick man, Harkness! That is disgusting!"

Gwen giggled a little, "I never know when he's joking."

Jack smiled his own Mona Lisa smile and ignored the unasked question, his last kiss…

Ianto quirked his head to the side, "What about Carys?"

Owen shook his head vehemently, "No, I can't believe that was his last kiss!"

Tosh was wide-eyed, innocence and a dollop of shock for good measure, "Alien though?"

"We have to remember Jack has standards, consenting, gorgeous, and vaguely humanoid," Ianto attempted to keep a straight face but the humor was infectious.

Owen watched Jack's lips curve upward and his eyes glaze for a moment.

"No way he hasn't had a kiss since then. 'Sides, he's getting all giddy just thinking about it, had to be good."

A full blown wolf grin settled in place and Jack winked at the younger man, "Better than you'll ever know, best drug in the world, and I should know."

The grin slipped back to into a mask of secrecy. Jack allowed his children to laugh at him before continuing to puzzle out the mystery.

The debate went on between the foursome about just who he had kissed, or perhaps what. He chuckled internally as a hasty Janet was retracted by Tosh at Owen's eyebrow waggle. Jack was content just stare across the countryside thinking fondly of his last kiss. Golden hair, hazel eyes that were more green than brown, and a temper to top anyone and anything. Yep, the secret smile had gone full blown grin.

* * *

Jack stared at the alien who had played with his children. No one, no one, got to do that but Jack...and maybe Buffy if she would come home.

'Mary', such an innocent name for so conniving a creature. Inhaling sharply Jack fingered the transporter in his palm. Stepping forward he pressed the artifact into the alien's hands. He kept his cold, blank stare locked with her faux pleading one. He flashed a brief smile but it wasn't quite a smile, it was an expression that spoke of lethality and malice.

There was a sharp chirp and a soft whooshing noise and Jack stepped back swiftly.

Mary radiated a true emotion in that moment, "What's happening?"

Captain Jack Harkness had left the Arcateenian holding the artifact.

"Oh, that. I re-programmed it for you. It's set to enable," Jack answered flippantly.

A bright light seeped outward, consuming Mary in its brilliance and shooting upward towards the ceiling. It contracted swiftly, leaving Torchwood sans one alien.

Jack's eyebrows rose and he gave an almost grimace, before relaxing and finishing his thought, "Sort of now."

Turning to leave, the Captain was stopped by Toshiko, "What did she...? Has she gone home?" Her voice was almost pleading.

Jack traced the grill pattern on the floor with his eyes, "I reset the co-ordinates."

Tosh's voice picked up a few levels, "Where to?"

Jack smiled falsely and adopted a well remembered ditzy tone, "To the center of the sun. It shouldn't be hot. I mean, we sent her there at night and everything."

Jack cringed internally. It was such a Buffy thing to say. One more reminder that she was across the globe.

Toshiko's eyes widened and color fled her face, "You killed her."

Jack's eyes went flat, his face hardened, "Yes," his voice was barely disguised rage.

The Captain's jaw locked up while the others put on faces of surprise and horror. Tosh started to cry.

Jack shook his head as he swallowed his anger, instead steeling himself, and infusing his voice with a harsh venom and a dose of truth, "I did what I had to what none of you could, what none of you would. I gave her mercy."

Silence. They wouldn't understand, none of them. The Doctor would, Buffy would. They knew that sometimes life was more a curse than death.

* * *

Jack breathed through his nose, not trusting his mouth to not betray him. Swallowing the dryness in his mouth he slid the cold metal glove onto his hand and touched it to poor Alex Arwyn's head. Closing his eyes he pushed his awareness out into the darkness. His brow furrowed in concentration and confliction.

Nothing, "Come on, Alex, Come back," Jack half muttered half pleaded to the body.

At the foot of the autopsy table Owen was monitoring the readings and trying to settle the riotous party in his stomach. Gwen was watching curiously. The kind of curious that only ever caused problems.

"How does it work," of course she had to ask.

Jack scowled as he kept searching, "You just sort of feel. Like reaching into the dark. Finding the dead. I can't…I don't…Ah!"

Jack stumbled backwards as if electrocuted. He swiftly pulled his hand from the glove and shook it, trying to shake off the feeling, the memory of it.

Shaking his hand as if it were electrocuted, Jack winced, "Damn! Ah! Nothing! Sorry. Never was very good with this thing, promised I wouldn't."

The last was more of a comfort for himself murmured in the silence.

Cradling the glove in his uninjured hand Jack glanced around the room before settling on Owen. He chucked the glove at the doctor, "Owen?"

Owen shook his head and passed the glove down the line.

* * *

Jack gazed down at the beaten, crumpled body in the grass.

"Traveled on the bonnet, bounced, maybe rolled, smashed his face on the road."

Gwen knelt down next to the body on the grass, assessing the scene herself.

"Sometimes I forget how fragile life is," Jack murmured as he gazed up at the cloudless sky. These scenes always reminded him of Buffy, how petite she was, how _she _always looked so fragile.

* * *

"Who are you?"

It was the broken cry of a broken man.

Jack closed his eyes, "A man, like you, out of his time…alone and scared."

John was watching him closely, "How do you cope?"

"It's bearable. It has to be. For…I don't have a choice," the unspoken words about living for her, with her Jack kept tucked inside.

"But I do," John's voice was thick, "If you want to help me, let me go with some dignity. Don't condemn me to live!"

He was silent, how did you respond to someone who wanted to die. Buffy would have known. She would have made everything better.

John could see the glow in Jack's eyes, the glow that could only a woman could inspire, "Promise me something, promise you won't let her go."

Jack frowned but didn't move, "Are you scared?"

John's eyes were closed and Jack could tell the tears were only moments away, "Yes."

Jack stared straight ahead as he slipped his hand into the other man's hand. It didn't take long for the exhaust to fill the car. It took even less time for John to begin to fade as he breathed the fumes deeply. Jack watched with a patience unknown to men as someone who didn't want to live slipped away.

At last John's hand went limp and slid out of Jack's. Taking a shuddering breath, Captain Jack Harkness, let one tear leak from his eye.

Squeezing the cooling hand for a moment before tucking it into John's lap he uttered one last for the man, "I promise John, I promise."

* * *

Jack narrowed his eyes as he squared off with the weevil across from him. Jack bit his lip in anticipation. There were three things in the world that made his blood race, one was adventure, one was in Cleveland, and one was right in front of him: the fight.

Jack lunged forward playfully, after a good long chase this was the corner and fight part of the evening. The alien swiped at Jack's head he barely ducked out of the way. Jack snickered and the weevil growled savagely.

The jump-suited creature sprang at Jack knocking them both back into the wall.

Jack shoved him off before scrambling to his feet, "Come on. Let's make this easy for the both of us."

The weevil started forward, arms extended. Jack locked the weevil's arms and clocked him across the cheek. Breaking Jack's grip, the weevil scratched him across the chest, leaving deep furrows before slamming Jack against the wall.

Wiping a little blood from his lip, Jack squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes.

"This always happens when I give them the night off."

Cracking his neck in a maneuver that implied strength and power Jack stood upright. This time when the weevil swiped at him Jack retreated out of striking distance. The next strike left him on his butt, leaning against the wall.

Chuckling happily Jack glanced down at his mauled chest, "I miss Buffy saving my cute ass." Jack turned to the weevil, "And you Mister, are gonna get your ass kicked when my girl finds out you hurt me."

Jack rose to his feet, ready for round two.

* * *

The music played in the Ritz Dancehall, the sun long gone. The music, the smiles, the laughter, it was all too bright. Jack couldn't help but hate it. Well part of him, the other part was resisting the urge to run out into the night and find Buffy. Of course there were rules against that sort of thing. Undoubtedly he would run into himself which was of the bad. Besides if this whole stuck in time thing was permanent he had eternity to catch up with himself and Buffy.

The Captain, his namesake, interrupted his thoughts, "Why did you make me kiss her goodbye?"

Jack stared blankly at his still full glass, "I just think you should live every night like it's your last. Make tonight the best night of your life. You're alive—right here, right now. Your men are fine. There's a philosophy, do you wanna hear it?"

"Sure," The Captain assented.

"Life is short."

A snort of laughter issued from The Captain, "Life is short."

Jack ducked his head, he had liked it the moment Buffy had said it, even if it wasn't quite true.

"Seize the moment, because tomorrow, you might be dead."

If only the mortal man knew just how true those words were.

"What are you trying to say," asked The Captain.

"Go to her. Go to your woman and lose yourself in her," Jack almost begged.

Gods knew if he was going to war…again…he would be neck deep in Buffy with no end in sight. She would protect him, from the nightmares, from the guilt, from the monsters.

The Captain took another good swig of his own drink, "Maybe I should."

"Yeah."

It was almost with a pitying curiosity that the true Jack Harkness asked, "Is Toshiko your woman?"

"No," Jack sighed, his woman was miles and decades from here, "There's no-one here for me. Go to her."

The night wore on. Cheer faded but didn't disappear. Tosh was having some fun, being passed around from gentleman to gentleman. This was how life was supposed to be. There shouldn't have been war. It was pointless it didn't prove who was right, just who was left. Any veteran knew that being right wasn't truly worth the deaths…all the bodies.

Sitting at his table, Jack was only shaken when he was pulled up and onto the dance floor.

One of the men, George spoke scorn filled words, "What's he doing?"

The Captain was leading the un-killable man in a slow dance. Other couples stopped moving, backed away. It was sad, how could comfort be so shamed? Jack smiled at his dance partner.

"You have a woman, don't you? Your woman, does she love you?"

Jack couldn't help but grin at this topic, "Yes."

"How did you meet?"

Jack frowned briefly, "She was lost, so lost. So was I. I helped her heal, and she helped me."

"Do you love her?"

The smile returned and glittering eyes made their appearance, "With everything of my being."

"How do you know—if you love her?"

Jack chuckled slightly, "I love the way she destroys every five syllable word she says, I love how her nose crinkles when—she always smells like vanilla and the sun—warmth. She makes me feel."

The Captain was staring, he never knew a man could feel that, "I'd like to have that."

Jack shook his head, "You do."

Whatever The Captain was going to say was cut off by a thunderous crash, like a storm.

The rift flashed open, the blinding light banishing every shadow in the hall.

Toshiko called his name frantically, happily, "Jack."

"Jack, we need to get out!"

Jack stared at the rift, his way home. Jack's way back to his girl.

"Jack, you have to! We need you," Tosh pleaded.

Turning to The Captain Jack squeezed his hand, "I have to go."

Tosh stood waiting before the rift.

"It's my duty," Jack spoke while staring straight into the rift.

"Go to her," it was clear who The Captain was speaking of.

Jack inhaled heavily before he turned back to The Captain and kissed him deeply. It wasn't that Jack wanted the man, he wouldn't say 'no' for sure, but this was for The Captain. It was just the right thing to do, give a doomed man one last moment of joy. It was compassion.

Breaking away, Jack looked back only once to find The Captain saluting him, before following Toshiko into the dazzling haze of white light and into their time.

* * *

Jack's own words echoed in his ears as he felt the life being sucked from him.

_If Abaddon is the bringer of death, let's see how he does with me. If he feeds on life, then I'm an all-you-can-eat buffet._

Even through the excruciating pain one thought bore him threw it smiling. Buffy would kill him. Kill him for good if this didn't work—if he didn't come back.

Abaddon stood above Jack, his shadow just barely falling upon him. It was upon him to save the world.

And he wondered if its shadow had killed her already, if it could. He wondered if she was frantically calling their home, the hub, his cell. He wondered if this was really the end, and if it was, why wasn't he scared. He wondered if he would see her smiling face again, those absolving green eyes. He wondered if she would ever hold him again, if he would ever know the pleasure of her body again.

Jack wondered a lot of things in those brief pain-rife moments. He never wondered if she loved him. He didn't have to. That was an absolute.

His own scream filled his ears and he closed his eyes, and he wondered if he would go to heaven. The heaven she had described to him.

And then it was dark, and the agony was gone.

3500 miles away a heart slammed to a stop, body jerking upright in bed. Head thrown back, hair in disarray, and muscles between rigor mortis and atrophy before the body of The Slayer collapsed, lifeless.

In the Darkness Jack could only hear his own ragged breathing. There was little he feared, death wasn't one of those things, but _this_ was. The Darkness.

There were hands grasping for him, the Creeping things that lived in the Dark.

"Jack," it was a whisper only half there.

It was enough. In the Darkness there were the Creeping things, and there was Her.

"Buffy."

She was part of the Darkness. It embraced her warmly like an old lover, but with others it pulled and smothered and drowned like a pest. Jack had always wondered why—they were the same—the Darkness didn't keep them—but Jack didn't like the Dark and the Dark didn't like him.

"Jack," she called again, it was more substantial this time.

"I want to go home. It's cold…" Jack begged her.

Though he knew she was before him, she was in echoes, "It's too early, the sun will burn us."

"It's time to go home, I want to go," Jack whimpered urgently.

Never in the many times they had occupied the Darkness with Buffy had she ever done this—only in her dreams.

"Home…Miles to go—counting down from 7-3-0. All broken, it's too early!"

"We have to go, we don't belong!"

"Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though—Between the woods and frozen lake. The darkest evening of the year. The woods are lovely, dark and deep—And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. It's coming—oh god, it's coming," her voice was breathy, fast and altogether unnatural.

Jack reached out into the Dark, searching for her, "I want to go back, I want to leave the coldness. Take me home."

Buffy gave one last shudder, "It fades. It all fades."

"Jack," she asked, "Is that you?"

"Buffy," _this_ was his girl, Jack could sense that.

"We need to go," Buffy said softly, "Come back to me Jack, please, come back."

There she was, smiling softly and reaching out to hold him. She was the clichéd light in the Darkness.

Back in the morgue, the vigil over a dead man continued. The tears were real, but the very situation was unreal. It wasn't something Torchwood discussed, but it was now general knowledge that Captain Jack Harkness just didn't die.

His heart stuttered to life, and as sensation returned he felt the lightest brush of someone's lips on his. The image of his beloved etched on the backs of his eyelids made him smile and his first breath was a prayer to Her.

"Thank you."

* * *

Thanks for all the lovely reviews, hope for more…make me happy please?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.  
A/N: I've been a tad depressed due to school and the utter lack of conscientious writers…I was reading a Batman Begins fic the other day, and I ran across some very familiar dialogue…it was huge chunks from Buffy. I was like, okay, maybe it's just this once, nope, it was every chapter, the majority. It was not a crossover, and more importantly, there was no credit given to the proper owners…gah! It's one thing to take a line or a phrase when doing a crossover, but to plagiarize entire chunks and not give credit…wow, rant much. I'm sorry, it just burns me that people think that that's okay. I'm done, I swear. Please enjoy this chapter…we're leading up to some yummy stuff…hehehe.

* * *

Jack smiled at Gwen as she left the room, his face slid into neutral as soon as she was out of sight. They knew—all of them—without a doubt he wasn't at all what he seemed.

His pity party was slowed to a grinding halt as his hand in a jar started to pulse with blue light. The Doctor. Jack swallowed hard and pushed down every emotion, tumultuous and euphoric alike, of which there were many. He had to call her. Buffy. His near numb fingers did the rather clumsy work on the cell phone for him. Placing it to his ear, Jack prayed she would answer.

On the second ring it picked up and a whisper soft voice spoke, "Jack."

"Buffy? Where are you," his voice was half between panic and worry.

"Just outside the hub—," he cut her off.

"Good, stay there, right there!"

He hung up just as an all too familiar blue police box shuddered into existence. His shit-eating grin in place Jack flung himself into the TARDIS and slammed the doors closed in one jerky motion.

"Doctor!"

The man at the console spun to face him. It was—it wasn't the same face. It was the Doctor to be sure, but this was a different body, a new body. He had regenerated. Jack wasn't complaining.

"Jackie-boy! How's it going?"

The Doctor was beyond cheerful, his mouth curved upward, eyes shining.

Jack bit his lip though a smile was already pulling at his own mouth, "We need to make a stop. Just outside, in the square. I want you to meet someone."

The Doctor frowned in puzzlement but proceeded to tap and wrench at buttons and levers until the TARDIS roared into life.

* * *

Buffy stared blankly at her phone. Jack had hung up on her. Sure he'd done that plenty of times before, but usually he gave a reason—even when he was neck deep in weevils.

"Jerk," the slayer muttered darkly.

Buffy tapped her foot and shivered gently as the wind picked up speed. One more reason she didn't really enjoy the British Isles as much as say…Hawaii, Pompeii. Which reminded her of that stupid joke Jack told _every_ time they visited, 'Pompeii is nice, but you got to remember to set your alarm for Volcano Day'. Buffy shivered again and shifted in her leather jacket, Jack was a dead man.

Her head snapped up at the legendary—at least to her—whooshing. This was Jack's phantom Doctor. It had to be. After several tense seconds it stabilized. A brilliant, shiny new, blue police box. Buffy approached carefully and nudged the door with her foot. It seemed safe enough. An arm darted out and Buffy was unceremoniously yanked inside. She stumbled across the grating floor before righting herself.

Eyes snapping into slits as they landed on Jack, Buffy exhaled a shallow breath. Squaring her shoulders Buffy pulled her arm up to connect her fist with his stubble clear cheek. Jack only had a second to be surprised before the floor rose to meet him and a suffocating blackness swallowed him.

Buffy scowled down at her companion, who was luckily unconscious before giving him a sharp kick to shin. Buffy released a satisfied breath and smiled smugly to herself.

Behind her, someone hissed and then chuckled lightly. Buffy assumed this had to be the Doctor.

* * *

She spun to face the Doctor, the veil of golden hair shielding her face from view. When it settled the Doctor's breath caught in his throat.

"I know you, I've seen you before," his announcement was softer than a sigh.

"What did you just say," her voice bit into his flesh like a machete.

"Wha—oh," the Doctor smiled brightly attempting to distract the golden woman, "I said it was nice to meet you. I'm the—"

"Doctor," she cut him off.

The Doctor deflated, it showed physically, a little air went out of his ego, "You've heard of me?"

She shrugged, "Jack here," she nudged Jack's stomach roughly with her high-heeled foot, "is all fanboy over you."

The doctor smiled, a tiny blush seeping in his cheeks, "Ah. And you are?"

"I'm Buffy," the girl spoke softly as she edged forward.

"Hello Buffy," the Doctor smiled cheerfully, "So…you and Jack…"

It was a question that Buffy had heard many a time before. From jealous women and men, from opponents and friends. Buffy wasn't sure where this man fell. Buffy glanced behind her to look at the still unconscious man, how to answer.

"Companion for lack of a better term," Buffy shrugged, "So this is the TARDIS."

The Doctor allowed the change of subject goodness knew he did that quite a bit.

"This is it," he told Buffy slowly.

Buffy moved forward and trailed her fingers delicately across the control panel.

She glanced up at the Doctor and smiled softly, "She's beautiful."

The Doctor's lips curled upward proudly, "Isn't she just. How about a tour—ah, we're all charged up and ready to go, we really should go. So, Buffy, where do _you_ want to go?"

Buffy rolled her shoulders, "Hmm, I don't know. Surprise me, Doctor."

He chuckled smoothly and rubbed his hands together, "Excellent, excellent. Let's leave it up to the TARDIS."

"Alrighty."

The Doctor glanced over Buffy's shoulder at the still very unconscious Jack, "How about that tour?"

He stuck his arm out like a proper gentleman.

"Milord," Buffy giggled.

"Milady," the Doctor inclined his head as Buffy wrapped her arm under his to lay her palm over the back his hand.

"Well, well, color me surprised. Were you a proper lady before you met Jack?"

"Bad Halloween," Buffy confided.

"Ah," the Time Lord accepted the answer, "How do you feel about time travel?"

Buffy winced nearly imperceptibly, "Depends, I guess, is Jack along for the ride?"

The Doctor chuckled getting a lungful of sweet vanilla, "Experience? Bad, one I would guess."

"Landed up on Normandy Beach, and then, he tells the locals that I'm his _personal_ lady," Buffy rolled her eyes at Jack's past antics.

"Ah," the Doctor bit back his laughter.

"You?"

"First time I met him? Oh, let's see, nearly got me killed by a bunch of nanogenes."

Buffy was delighted as she leaned lightly on the Doctor, "So we're agreed? Jack and time travel equals badness all around."

Hysterical laughter flowed through the TARDIS as it flew through space. The Doctor and the Slayer becoming thicker than the thickest thieves all the while the Captain lay passed out.

* * *

Please review, I need some encouragement on this story.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.  
A/N: Life has been piling up and I haven't had much time to write or breath for that matter…this weekend is going to be better…I just haven't had much time to enjoy myself. I hate school.

* * *

Gwen stood with her mouth open and her eyes wide. Her stomach had sunk into the sub-floors. Jack was…gone. She hadn't left him for more than a few seconds, he was there one second and gone the next. Like he had disappeared into thin air, and she was in Torchwood, stranger things had happened. Jack was gone. Not ever-present.

Gone.

The door hissed open and joking laughter echoed up to her, but still Gwen stood still, horror etched into her face. Oh God, what would they do? What would they do without him, without Jack?

"Jack," Gwen questioned softly to the air.

There was no answer, of course there wouldn't be.

Her face was still stuck in a mockery of fear and surprise when Tosh, Owen, and Ianto practically skipped up the steps.

Gwen pulled herself together for one last ditch hope, "Did you see Jack on your way in?"

Tosh shook her head still giggling softly as she leaned on Owen, "No."

Owen quirked an eyebrow as he looked around the hub. Papers were scattered everywhere. Papers he was almost certain he and mostly the others had cleaned up earlier.

"I thought we'd tidied up in here! What's the matter?"

Gwen felt light headed, "Um…he was just here."

She froze, her fingers meeting to fiddle with each other, "Something's taken him. Jack's gone," Gwen decided.

Ianto frowned and set the tray of coffees down on a desk, "No. Jack wouldn't leave."

Owen scowled, "Well, it seems he has."

Tosh leaned over Owen's shoulder. He was looking at the video footage of the hub. The one corner in the hub that each member of Torchwood knew was invisible on the cameras: that was where Jack disappeared to. A corner. No doors, no secret passages, no grates to slip down into. It was a dead end. Dead end, but Jack was gone.

But there _was_ something wrong. Jack looked elated. Jack had always smiled a lot, but this wasn't the same smile. It was the smile of a man going home.

He smiled and then he was gone. And Torchwood was lost. They had lost their Captain. The man who made the hard decisions. He was gone, and there was no way he could have gone. No rift activity, no nothing Captain Jack Harkness had disappeared into thin air.

Gwen was less than calm now, before there was a chance, "Tosh, do every scan you can think of. Owen, uh, help Tosh. Ianto, anything you know about Jack, anything in personnel files. We have to find him. Someone has to know where he is."

No one spoke. They just went off as they were told to do. No one wanted to argue. They all knew that they had to find Jack.

* * *

An hour, a battery of tests, scattered files, and several rounds of coffee later, they had nothing.

Nothing had come up from the tests, and Jack's personnel file, though supposedly existed, was just as missing as its subject.

The hub was dark, everyone had gone home. To drown their sorrow, fear, self-loathing in a book, a drink, a phone call home, or a cuddle on the couch.

Tomorrow was a new day. Maybe today was just a nightmare, maybe everything would be alright.

* * *

Tomorrow wasn't a new day. It was the same. Jack was gone. And everything wasn't alright.

* * *

"Andy," Gwen questioned into the phone.

"Something's happened Gwen, I didn't know who else to call," his voice cracked.

"Slow down, Andy, now tell me what happened."

"It was lurking in the holding cell at the back. Don't know how it got it in, oh Gwen, it's not human, it can't be!"

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, no, it couldn't be happening. Not without Jack.

"Alright, Andy, I need you to seal off the area, and get everyone who knows about it in one area, don't tell anyone. We'll be right there, okay."

* * *

Owen sniffed at the carcass, one really couldn't call that a body anymore, it was in shambles. The worse part was, the weevil was trapped in with the body. It was knee deep in guts. Doctor Harper had to stamp down on his gag reflex. The weevil was smeared in blood. His jumpsuit no longer blue-gray but black-red, damning evidence of what had happened tonight.

"I'm so sorry," Owen breathed.

Tosh smiled at him as she closed up her kit, "What was that?"

"Nothing, do you have the spray? Might need two doses, this bugger has a taste for blood."

Toshiko hadn't seen inside the cell, "That bad?"

Owen winced at her nearly cheerful voice, "Worse."

"Oh," Tosh answered flatly as she handed over the canisters.

Standing she moved towards the end of the corridor. She could hear Gwen explaining what had happened to the homeless man. She could hear Ianto passing around cups of drugged tea.

Maybe it would be okay. Without Jack. Maybe the four of them could survive if Jack never came back.

* * *

The first day ended with a pizza Owen didn't have the heart to order under the name of Torchwood. It ended with hollow jokes. And every member of Torchwood was wondering what Jack would have done today. What jokes he would have told to make everything alright for a few minutes.

Instead Gwen had stepped forward, and Ianto. And Owen and Tosh had followed them, not ready to admit the loss of someone who had saved them.

* * *

Thanks for all the reviews, I love you guys! Tehehe…keep on reviewing…Cheers!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.  
A/N: Halloween is coming up, here's a little treat. Hope you all enjoy…cheers.

* * *

"It's a beach!"

Buffy scrunched her toes up in the warm, white sand. She couldn't help the little moan that slipped out.

The Doctor chuckled and toed the sand with his chucks, "Well, yeah, I suppose it is."

Buffy bit her lip to keep from smiling, "Jack told me, warned me, but, oh, I guess seeing it is…oh, you must think I'm a complete dork now!"

"No, no. It's fine."

The Doctor watched as she made swirling patterns in the sand with her toes. The smile was in her eyes, an entirely different sparkle than just half an hour before. For someone so serious and pained, at this moment, Buffy looked peaceful and happy.

Even with a slayer's balance, Buffy tumbled onto the sand when it slipped from beneath her as the TARDIS shook. Beside her, the Doctor had collapsed. Twitching her toes, Buffy rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on the Doctor's tummy.

"Earthquake," She asked almost eagerly.

"Landing," he responded happily.

Buffy's eyes narrowed, "Wait a minute, if I'm here, and you're here, and Jack's unconscious—who's driving this ship?"

He chuckled enthusiastically, the vibrations thrummed against Buffy's bared throat inducing her own laughter.

"So, ready to find out where we landed?"

"Yes! But first I have a very important question, its life and death."

The Doctor frowned at her seriousness, "What?"

"Can we come back here? I want to make a sand castle! Ooh, and I want to bury Jack up to his neck in sand, wanna help," the smile was back and the Doctor couldn't help but nod senselessly.

* * *

"I can't believe he's _still_ passed out," Buffy gazed at Jack, "Maybe I hit him too hard."

The Doctor's head tipped from side to side, his mouth pulled into a pout, his eyebrows raised as in synchronicity with his shoulders, the epitome of a Gallic shrug.

"I don't know, he should be able to take it, shouldn't he?"

Buffy returned the shrug only to have him chuckle at her actions.

"Don't suppose the TARDIS carries post-its or permanent markers?"

The devilish smile was infectious to say the least.

"Hang on," the Doctor mumbled as he fished inside his coat pocket, "Ah-ha! Permanent marker."

If Buffy was blind, she would have been able to hear the smile in his voice. She liked that about people, it told her a lot about who he was. Passionate, unrestrained, free. Jack controlled himself a bit better, she hated it at times, and sometimes Jack tried too hard to be happy she hated that just as much.

Instead of ruminating on her life, Buffy accepted the green sharpie as she straddled Jack's waist. Her neck tingled as the Doctor stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. Clicking her tongue in disappointment at Jack for letting down his shields, Buffy ripped Jack's button-up blue shirt open and tore his white t-shirt up the center. Brushing soft fingers against warm, hard flesh, the slayer leaned forward, if Jack were conscious, he would be having the time of his life, but as he wasn't, Buffy was having the time of hers. Uncapping the marker, Buffy pressed it to Jack's picturesque chest. It took a few moments to scrawl out the words and a few more to dot the 'I's viciously and draw a rather detailed smiley face on his tummy, taking advantage of his belly button.

Jack—

Gone adventuring with the Doctor, we'll be back later. Try not to do anything stupid.

—Buffy

Buffy smiled and handed the marker back to the Doctor, "So the TARDIS has—"

"Nearly everything I could ever need," he finished her question.

A glittering fire slipped into her normally stoic eyes, "Handcuffs?"

Face contorted in concentration the Doctor thought for a few seconds before a similar fire entered his eyes, "Yes. Actually, I think I do have a pair."

"Excellent," Buffy breathed.

The Doctor smiled as he rummaged in a box beneath the console. At last righting himself, a pair of handcuffs dangling from his middle finger, the Doctor found his newest companion dragging Jack across the grating into a corner.

"Alright, now, if you just cuff him behind his back to that little pole thing, we'll be ready to go."

Again the Doctor shrugged before following her instructions to lock Jack up. To say it didn't give him some sick satisfaction to be chaining something that felt so wrong, would be a mistake. Then, she felt wrong too. Something about her made his stomach twist and warm unnaturally.

"It's kind of fitting, I mean handcuffing a guy in a Police Box? Tell me that's not funny," it _was_ funny.

That's how they left Jack. Shirts open, message on his bared chest, hands firmly secured to discourage any…mischief Jack might feel obligated to commit while left unattended.

Grasping the Doctor's extended hand Buffy ignored his motion for her to do the honors of opening the TARDIS door. Instead Buffy nudged the Doctor into doing it. She had a funny feeling that he had been playing the very same role for a very long time only his partner ever changed, the dance remained the same. Buffy, being who she was, liked to alter normality wherever she was.

So it was the Doctor who led the way on their first adventure together. He took the first step into the long, crisp, electric blue grass. And by long, Buffy, having lived in suburbia her entire childhood, was pleasantly surprised to find waist high blades reminiscent of Africa or even the untamed wilds of Scotland.

It was a sea of blue, and Buffy of course had the inane thought that if the land was blue, then was the ocean green. Frivolity, she'd missed it.

"Blue grass, huh, I wonder if they like bluegrass music?"

If any of the Doctor's former companions had said that he might have scoffed or laughed in placating manner. But the way she said it, rather like she knew it was entirely ridiculous but the idea was humorous enough for the moment.

The Doctor hadn't met anyone like that since the war. Instead of being a reminder of failure once again, The Last of the Time Lord's found it refreshing.

"It would be rather fitting it they did," he responded without the false candor of the past.

"Yeah—does it seem…I don't know, too quiet," Buffy wondered aloud.

The Doctor frowned good naturedly before inhaling deeply, "Let's go find out."

They walked through the tall grass in silence for a while before a town appeared on the horizon. Buffy giggled softly and turned her head to the side to hide her obvious good humor.

"What," the Doctor asked not liking being kept out of the joke.

"I was just thinking," Buffy giggled again before making eye contact with her companion, "With Jack's luck, this'll be the planet where clothes are a sin and everyone goes bare! He'd kick himself right out of the TARDIS and into deep space for missing that."

"That does sound like Jack, there actually is a planet like that though. Visited a few decades back, fabulous time excellent bartenders," he recalled.

There was silence as they trotted down the last hill and into the town. It was abandoned to all appearances. Papers were strewn across the ground, old newspapers in a language Buffy could read after a moment.

"Jack mentioned the TARDIS translated for you, is that how I can I read this," she showed the Doctor the page.

"Yes…this isn't right," he scowled.

Buffy quirked her head in a question, "It shows the power usage for the planet. Most don't bother publishing, this must be one of the early 'green' planets. Look at that stage, its equivalent to April. The power spike is ridiculous compared to the cold and the hot extreme stages during the year."

"You think that has something to do with everybody hiding inside on such a beautiful day," Buffy asked the expert.

"I wouldn't say it's not. Come on, let's go find some shops see if we can glean anything useful," the Doctor grabbed her hand and started to pull her along at a quick pace.

* * *

The shop bell tinkled loudly in silence. Buffy glanced up at the bell above the door and frowned before she heard a very familiar noise. It was the two tonal noise of a shotgun being cocked.

The Doctor pulled her a little closer, "We don't mean any harm."

A plump human-like woman holding a shotgun rose from behind the counter of the canteen. Behind her were two small children, both boys. Buffy's muscles tensed against her will. They were scared.

After a long moment the woman lowered the gun but didn't put it away, "You're not from around here."

"Tourists," the Doctor volunteered cheerfully, his smile back.

"Clearly," she snorted. "Well, sit down. Don't get many visitors these days. None in fact. Where you from?"

"Oh, around," the Doctor generalized as he took a seat in a dusty booth, Buffy settling across from him.

The woman didn't seem particularly eased by his answer. Buffy smiled comfortingly, "We like to travel. Don't really stay in one place too long. There's too much to see to sit still."

That put the woman at ease and she chuckled, "That type, eh? Reckon my husband would have been much the same if he hadn't had these two rascals to provide for."

The Doctor was still stuck to one part of the conversation, "No visitors? Why not?"

The woman sighed but stiffened her posture at the same time, "We're an abandoned planet. In the first few days of the…everyone who could fled. No contact with the outside world, we don't even go outside anymore."

The children scrabbled around on the floor before popping up on the bench beside Buffy. The woman scowled and shook her head at her children.

"Those are my boys, Alne and Xasto, I'm Merja. Now, can I get you something to eat?"

The Doctor nodded happily, "We'd love something, surprise us. Oh, and I'm the Doctor, and this is Buffy."

"Well, Doctor, Buffy, welcome to our home."

Buffy smiled before going back to playing what the Doctor could only guess was paddy-cakes with the boys while their mother hurried into a back room.

The Doctor leaned over the table, "Something's not right here."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Really, what tipped you off?"

Alne who had settled himself quite happily on Buffy's lap looked up at her, eyes wide, "It's the metal-men," he whispered.

Her thin arms twined around the small child who was nearly petrified, "They can't get you. I'll tell you secret, you know all those things that go bump in the night?" The boy nodded hesitantly, the Doctor could only watch, "Well I'm what they're scared of. I'll protect you."

The Doctor's smile had melted away and pure curiosity had replaced it. She seemed so sincere when she said those words. Of course he didn't have much time to ponder what it meant because a small timer buzzed somewhere in the diner.

Merja dashed back into the room frantically, "Everyone in the back, there's no time! Oh dear. Come on!"

The two boys rushed past their mother and into the backroom. Buffy and the Doctor stood before Buffy pushed the Doctor towards the room as well.

"Go, I want to see something," Before he or Merja could argue Buffy was out the front door.

If it was possible, and Buffy wasn't quite sure if it was, the silence of the town had gotten even worse. It was almost as if even the ambient noise had disappeared in fear. Shutting her eyes to everything the slayer inhaled deeply pulling her surroundings in. Marching. It was clear as day and getting louder. She'd heard it before. With Jack. And at Torchwood London. Opening her eyes she saw them coming down the lane. Metal-men, Cybermen. They marched towards her. She froze, slowing her breathing to bare minimum to keep her blood flowing.

They marched right on past her, her skin brushing cold metal. They didn't see her, or they could and they didn't care. This wasn't typical behavior.

"It's a holding pattern," she whispered in horror as the last of the troupe brushed past her.

Turning she watched them retreat. They were patrolling. She must have stood there for ages, eyes disbelieving, and lips slightly parted, before the Doctor stood before her fingers tugging at the skin beneath her eyes…checking pupil dilation she belatedly realized.

Her hands rose to brush his away, "I'm fine."

He was staring at her again, "You don't look fine. In fact, you look like you've seen a ghost. Scared me half to death, the boys too."

"Not a ghost," she shook her head before finally focusing on the Doctor's face and not where the Cybermen had been.

"The metal-men," Merja whimpered from the doorway.

"Yes," Buffy agreed.

"How are you alive then? They've killed everyone in their way," Merja cried.

"I wasn't in their way, I was passive," Buffy mulled the explanation over aloud. "They're Cybermen, Doctor."

"That's not possible," his voice was more forceful than he intended it to be, but it wasn't possible.

"Why not?"

"I destroyed the controller! They should have gone inactive."

Buffy shook her head, "They could have been here for years undetected, inactive. They're not even active now, Doctor! They're using a holding pattern. I stood still and they walked past me, touched me but didn't register me."

"You've seen Cybermen before," the Doctor questioned curiously.

"A few times more recently, Torchwood London. Battle of Canary Wharf. I was in town, overrode the security measures and went in. I was making my way to the top when you shut it all down."

"Ah," Buffy kept her grimace to herself. She knew exactly why the Doctor had reacted that way, Rose.

Buffy glanced at the shop window, both boys and their mother were watching them closely, "We should go inside, make a plan. Plus, it's lunchtime here and I'm hungry."

Snorting softly the Doctor nodded and followed her back inside, "Do you always think with your stomach?"

Buffy chuckled brightly, "Hey, I could be Jack and thinking with other parts of my anatomy."

It was a resounding no, she didn't actually need food, she craved it sure, it sustained her at times. But she could do without it, but right now wasn't the time to cause more panic.

So the Doctor and Buffy sat together at the booth. They laughed and exchanged stories of Jack's antics. They discussed favorites and hatreds. They pretended that the good guys were always stalwart and true, the bad guys were easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and they always defeated them and saved the day. No one ever died, and everybody lived happily ever after.

There was no talk of death, destruction, or chaos. There were no tears.

Staring down at her plate in fascination Buffy made a questioning sound at the back of her throat, "Shrimp."

Merja grinned at her handiwork in the kitchen, "It's our main source of nutrients," she intoned before heading back to the kitchen.

Buffy's eyes widened as she stared at the Doctor, "Huhm, I've ended up on the shrimp world."

"Shrimp world," the Doctor asked, eyebrow shooting upwards.

"My friend from a very long time ago used to tell me that there are billions of planets and dimensions, and if you fell through a crack, you could land anywhere, troll land, or the land of perpetual Wednesday, or the crazy melty land...or, you know, the world without shrimp or with. It seems we landed in Shrimp Land."

"Perpetual Wednesday that could be fun." A frown etched it's way over the Doctor's face, "Unless Wednesday is pear pie day. Ugh," he shuddered.

"I see what you mean, Crazy Melty Land could be fun…except no ice cream," Buffy pouted.

The Doctor nodded his agreement of the badness that would be, "But Shrimp Land. I mean, it has got its draws, but every day."

Buffy reached across the table, hand extended, "Let's make a pact. We solve this 'C' issue and we get the hell off this planet and back to Non-Shrimp Land."

He nodded hurriedly and shook the proffered hand, "Deal. So, base of operations?"

"Factory from what I saw them go into, I'd say this is where it all started. Weapons?"

A screwdriver was set in front of her half empty shrimp platter, "Sonic Screwdriver."

Buffy smiled but quirked her own eyebrow and lay a dagger down before him, "Gold dagger."

"Can you get in close enough to use it?"

"Yeah, can you?"

"I think I can manage," he retorted leaning closer.

"Good," Buffy smirked, "I got your six."

"Good, how are we going to do this?"

Buffy shrugged before palming the dagger, "I'm guessing that they're in a holding pattern because they're waiting for orders that are never going to come. If we can get into the wiring we might be able to self destruct them."

"Any good with computers?" The Doctor asked eagerly.

"Fair," Buffy responded as she rose and stretched, "My best friend in high school was a pretty good hacker. Picked a few things up."

"Know how to hot-wire a car," he asked completely straight-faced.

"Yes, why," the slayer asked as the pair bid Merja and the boys goodbye and started on their way.

"I don't want to have to walk the entire way there," the Doctor whined like a three year old.

Buffy stood stock-still, "Just how much time _did _you spend with Jack?"

"A bit," he gave a non-answer.

"Brilliant, so what are you in the mood for? Convertible, SUV, sedan?"

"How 'bout that one," the Doctor pointed to a shiny red coupe convertible the picture of child-like glee on his face.

Throwing her hands up in amazement Buffy moaned noisily, "Fine!"

* * *

Buffy wobbled unnaturally as she walked away from the car. Apparently the Doctor had taken the deserted roads as pure invitation to drive as crazily as he could and as a result Buffy was having more than a little trouble walking.

Standing in front of the warehouse doors Buffy indicated that the Doctor should try using the fire escapes to get in while she was going to use the more direct route.

Shoddy plan in place Buffy unsheathed her two solid gold daggers and nudged the door open just a bit until she could easily slip inside. There they were, all lined up in a silver display. It reminded the slayer eerily of Adam's dream. Soldiers at the ready, mindless, emotionless—waiting for action--perfect.

Tucking her daggers behind her back as she walked at military attention, wrists crossed, daggers safely hidden. This was the only way she hypothesized she could get an accurate picture of her enemy. They remained immobile during her appraisal. Ten by four formation of Cybermen, the control panel must be beyond the troupe and in the vault.

40 targets and the minute Buffy went onto the offensive their circuits would fizzle into fun-time-action-Cybermen. The gold daggers would cut through their skeletal structure and right into their central lines—killing them instantly. Of course Buffy did have an advantage. If she got fried by their weapons she could just kip-up and move on. If the Doctor got hit on the other hand, well from what Jack had explained she would be in for a rough regeneration at best. Of course, there was the whole issue that the Doctor was less in the loop about Buffy's special 'talent'.

Inhaling deeply the slayer pushed away everything but her objective: kill. She smiled softly when she noted that the second story walkways were being traversed on tiptoe by the Doctor himself. He was perhaps attempting to be more silent in than necessary. But hey, Buffy would treasure this little tiptoeing Secret Agent Man routine for months to come.

Slipping past stationary soldiers, Buffy arranged herself into what she guessed was the center point of the formation. Suicidal was what most would assume upon sight. Unless the attacker couldn't die, then it didn't matter about being surrounded by the enemy.

Buffy waited patiently, she was the distraction in this non-plan. She had to wait until the Doctor was in place. Ready to unlock the vault, find the control, and change the game—that was the plan. Buffy just had to wait until the Doc was down the ladder and standing in front of the lock to strike out.

Inhaling one deep breath, Buffy's arms flashed upwards and out. The gold of her daggers glinted off the silver of the creatures as they sliced through alien metal as easily as they did air. Heads dangled on the flaps of metal that hadn't been severed for a moment before the entire cyberman stiffened and collapsed—dead.

If anyone had been watching the small blonde woman they might have seen the tiniest flash of a predatory grin before she lashed out at the second wave.

The only possible observer was caught between manipulating the locking mechanisms and watching his own back. He didn't have the time or the real inclination to watch what he could only hope was his companion fighting and not dying. As the vault door popped open he couldn't help but hear the laughter bouncing off the cavernous walls—it wasn't the happy laughter of before, it was cold and controlling. He kept his back to the noise as he stepped into the vault. He didn't want to see what he now could safely assume was a massacre behind him.

With their brethren scattered across the battlefield of the less than empty warehouse, the Cybermen got a little smarter. Smarter wasn't the right term, aggressive was. They were holding their fire and advancing—attempting and partially succeeding in trapping the slayer.

"Alright boys, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way," they took a step forward, indifferent to her speech, "Jeeze, a couple hundred years and I still have zero new material."

Wincing mentally as an electric blast grazed her ankle. Her daggers flowed across the room end over end, embedding themselves in the very control center of two Cybermen.

"Looks like this is about to get a little messy, hope your getting something done Doctor," she muttered as she waited for the next attack.

She enjoyed this thrill. Yes, she might be unarmed and unprepared for what was to come, but the worst that could happen was that she visited the Darkness again. At least for a little visit.

Buffy didn't expect the joint attack. She wasn't disappointed in the least, or upset. She was thrilled…well at least until the blast that would have killed an elephant slammed upward into her chest throwing her back. Back into a large, rancid smelling vat, of what Buffy could speculate, were once shrimp. Her stomach revolted but stayed still.

As the slayer struggled to her feet in the soupy matter, a fiery clang shoved her back down. Dunking her head into the mess again, the slayer shot up more quickly this time and gasped.

"I am going to kill him," she snarled as she hauled herself up and out of the vat.

Her daggers were melted all to hell but the job was done. Self-destruct, what kind of moron programs that into a soldier—well Buffy assumed the same type of villain who outlined every single detail of a plan to the champion. Ugh, Buffy had met more than her fair share of those types.

Shaking herself like a dog, Buffy attempted almost desperately to rid herself of her shrimp mush coat.

"What hap--," the Doctor stopped speaking when Buffy leveled her gaze at him.

"Don't finish that sentence, or I swear, you'll be looking much worse than me."

The Doctor tipped his head from side to side figuring her assessment was fair enough.

He followed obediently when Buffy snapped her fingers and marched out of the warehouse and plopped into the passenger side of the car. Buffy ruminated silently as the Doctor drove at a slightly more controlled speed.

At last she ran her hands through her hair, "Of all the freaking places to set up base, it's my freaking luck that it happens to be at a shrimp factory."

The Doctor winced visibly before smiling too cheerfully at her, "Well you wear it very well."

She glared again and the Doctor swallowed harshly and his eyes snapped back to the road.

* * *

Wet hair swept up in a haphazard bun and clothed in a borrowed, overly loose and large paisley dress draped across her shoulders Buffy and the Doctor hiked back up the hill towards the TARDIS.

"You didn't want to see him again," Buffy stated as she kept her eyes locked ahead.

"No," his voice was subdued.

"If you had, you wouldn't have left him," again it wasn't a question.

The Doctor didn't speak but he gave her an appraising glance.

Buffy shook her head with a snort of dry laughter, "I should hate you for leaving…making him sad. But I guess I'm selfish since I've always been for it, for what you did," she clarified.

No response, but she did catch the furrowed brow. Questions.

"When you tell him, and I know you will because he'll ask, he'll be so sad again. And I'll be the one to pick up the pieces again. So tell me, why'd you leave him?"

Buffy came to a stop before the TARDIS door, blocking the Doctor's only way out of the conversation at hand. She stared directly into his warm dark eyes.

"He was wrong," the answer came after a moment. "A fixed point in time, a fact, he's wrong."

It was said with as much conviction as disgust. Not for Jack himself, but for what he had become. Buffy bit the inside of her lip as she opened the door to go inside.

"So are you, so am I. And sometimes, Doctor, sometimes the best things in life…are…the very most wrong things of all."

Her voice was soft with an entire lack of accusation.

* * *

"You know, usually when you knock me out and tie me up, we have really wild sex," Jack smirked at his girl.

Buffy rolled her eyes and sank down onto his waist, "Aww, poor Jackie."

Jack wiggled his hips attempting something that Buffy was certain wasn't going to happen, "Did you behave while we were gone?"

This produced a glare, "I'm not speaking to you anymore," it worked for a moment before his eyes went wide, "What are you wearing?!"

"The latest fashion from Shrimp-Land," the Doctor supplied as he nearly skipped into his ship and over to the console.

Flipping a few switches and rolling a few levers made the TARDIS lurch and Buffy turn green.

She stumbled off her perch on Jack, "Oh, I don't feel so well again."

The Doctor, surprising Jack, rushed to her side and helped her into one of the chairs, "Tummy again?"

She nodded pathetically epitomizing the softness of a sick child, "I'm never looking at shrimp again."

Pulling a fluffy blanket from beneath the console the Doctor tucked it around the Slayer. Jack just watched with his satirical eyes as the Doctor smiled and simpered around his Buffy.

The Doctor slipped away for a few minutes, disappearing into one of the many rooms aboard the TARDIS, only to return with a glass of sparkling gold liquid and a plate of toast. Sitting beside Buffy the Doctor smiled and lifted a piece of toast to her lips.

"Here, this should settle you, that a girl," he chuckled as she chewed.

Leaning amicably against the Time Lord Buffy wrinkled her nose, "Thank you."

"Welcome. So shall we try Crazy Melty Land next," he asked salaciously.

Buffy licked her lips, "See what we can melt?"

Their laughter bounced around the TARDIS cajoling the cool interior into uncharacteristic warmth.

"Hey!" Jack called, "Are we forgetting to un-handcuff somebody?!"

The Doctor smirked at Buffy, "I don't think so, what do you think."

"No, I don't think we did," Buffy smirked right back ignoring the big-britched-man.

Jack could have sworn he was missing something, something big.

Despite the levity of the situation, each member of the 'crew' was devoted to answering and resolving questions and issues that had arisen today. Perhaps the two males were occupied most of all.

* * *

Hey all, please review…it always cheers me up—and I desperately need cheering. Hug the author?


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.  
A/N: This is set somewhere after Donna and before Martha and quite obviously after the whole shenanigans of season one torchwood. A new, short chapter for the new year, hope everything is shiny for all.

* * *

It wasn't unusual for Ianto Jones to stay late at work. It wasn't unusual for him to not go home.

Of course 'usual' had changed since Harkness disappeared a week ago.

Gwen was dealing the best of the four left behind. She had a life outside of Torchwood, she had friends and she had Rhys.

Owen was dealing the way he dealt with everything: A heavy dose of hard liquor and an even larger dose of sarcasm.

Tosh was dealing quietly in the background. She had tinkered and fixed every faulty appliance and device she could get her hands on and then she had repeatedly reorganized her books.

Ianto wasn't dealing. Ianto was acting. Jack was gone. That was it.

It wasn't unusual for Ianto Jones to stay late at work, but it was unusual for him to lay out one of the standard issue Torchwood sleeping bags on the autopsy table and settle down for the night.

It was unusual, but no one said anything. They knew why he was doing it. Someone had to monitor the rift. Jack lived at Torchwood, in a room below his office. Now there was no Jack to take the night shift. So Ianto started to sleep at Torchwood. He stopped going home after a week and half. He started to live out of a pair of suitcases.

Tosh, Owen, and Gwen didn't say anything. Ianto was always the second in command informally. He made Torchwood work like a clock, even without Jack.

* * *

It was almost business as usual when Ianto rolled off his makeshift bed and to his feet as one of the computers beeped to life.

His tired eyes skimmed the screen as he hit the small remote Tosh had fashioned to start the coffee maker. The log showed a flood of panicked calls to the police departments informing them that the dead were walking the earth again.

Sending out the obligatory text to call in the agents of Torchwood Three Ianto retreated to redress in his suit instead of his cowboy jammies. By the time he was half way through his first cup of coffee, Owen was wincing at his desk and Gwen and Tosh were speaking quietly about their evenings.

Finally seeing Ianto Gwen smiled almost shyly, "So, what's up Ianto?"

He paused. This was their first actual call, excepting weevils, since Jack had left. The rift had been unusually quiet—not that anyone minded.

"There was an influx of calls to the police about ghosts. There have been no incident reports, and the rift monitor didn't go off."

Tosh spoke quickly, "Well just because the monitor didn't go off doesn't mean there wasn't any rift activity. Sometimes the spikes are within normal parameters but it carries small things through—non corporeal aliens might have slipped past."

"Okay," Gwen nodded, "Tosh, can you check on the monitor see if that might have happened, I'll start a new file for this. Better safe than sorry, eh?"

Owen rolled his eyes, "Righty-oh, I'll just…what should I do?"

Gwen snapped her fingers, a half smile settling into place at her idea, "Why don't you see if there's a pattern of where these sightings happened. That way we can canvas the area later."

Ianto nodded, "Coffee's in the pot. I will be down in the records room, see if I can't find anything."

The team scattered to do their individual tasks while Ianto make the trek into the bowels of the hub. While he was almost certain there would be no information in the records room, he had an ulterior motive for this trip. It had occurred to him late last night that if he couldn't find Jack's personnel file, he might find a clue to the man's life in old employee files.

He sat in the cold, uncomfortable metal folding chair with the rather thick stack of employee logs. It went back to the very beginning of Torchwood Three, which was quite a bit of data to go through. The only blessing Ianto had was that the previous archivist had been more than meticulous. Everything was in chronological order with numbered pages.

Actually judging by the style, Ianto guessed that whoever had redone this file had done nearly every other file in the room as well. That left one of two possibilities as explanation. Either Jack had done it—which Ianto doubted—Jack hated paperwork. Or someone else before him had been an even bigger workaholic.

It took three quarters of an hour before Jack reached the page he had been looking for. Or at least what was left of the page he was looking for. There was a name that had been blacked out with two three digit numbers below it. It was something.

* * *

Owen growled at the map of Cardiff before he narrowed his eyes and whipped a dart at it. It stuck firmly into the map which he had pinned to the corkboard on the wall.

"Its curtains for you Mr. 9th Street Deli," Owen spoke harshly.

"Having fun there," Gwen asked from behind him.

"Ah!" He nearly jumped out of his skin, "Jesus Gwen, I nearly pissed myself, thank you."

Gwen snorted, "Anything besides you practicing for your MI-5 interview?"

"No, and no. There aren't any patterns it's scattered. There are clumps and outliers. I even ran them through Tosh's program—nothing in common. In short," Owen smiled, "A dead end. No pun intended."

"Tosh's the same. I just hope Ianto has something useful," Gwen sighed.

"'fraid to say I don't have anything either," the man in question supplied.

Owen snorted a dry laugh, "Fair excellent time for Jack to take a vacation huh."

Gwen and Ianto both stiffened at the mention of their boss.

Tosh walked over to join them, a sad smile on her lips, "Nothing. What would—what should we do?"

Gwen shrugged. This was out of her experience.

Ianto straightened his back, "We don't do anything. We just continue monitoring the situation. If anything changes we follow up, if necessary we call Archie."

"Archie," Gwen asked as if it was the most ridiculous idea ever.

"Torchwood Two," Owen supplied.

Tosh sighed the reality of the situation setting in, "We're flying blind."

* * *

Please review, I'm always eager to here what readers think. Thanks and sorry for the wait..hehe, I got distracted in 2009…maybe 2010 will be better for my muse and I.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.  
A/N: This is set somewhere after Donna and before Martha and quite obviously after the whole shenanigans of season one torchwood. Thanks to all those who haven't ditched this story. I have been trying to cattle prod my own but into gear, but for some reason my fingers just won't type what they're supposed to.

* * *

"So, seriously," the Doctor panted as he pranced backward, "Abducted by aliens. Believe me, I know it happens, but…through a rip in the—"

"Dimensional walls," Jack confirmed as he sauntered into the padded room.

"Right," Buffy nodded as she rolled her shoulder.

Exhaling roughly, the Doctor leaned against the wall, "Well I know it's possible…I've seen it, but the odds are astronomical. No, they're more than astronomical!"

"You're telling me. But maybe it was just the balance balancing out," Buffy shrugged easily.

She'd spent a few dozen years devoting every second to trying to figure out why and how. After that it'd seemed unimportant. Mostly because she couldn't change it. And she was free. Or at least a mockery of freedom.

"How do you know," the million-dollar question that he was smart enough to ask.

"I was told by a reliable source that had nothing to gain by telling me," Buffy bit her tongue at the memory of sitting in her cell and Whistler appearing before her.

Shaking herself, Buffy pulled her arm up. Sword swinging to a stop millimeters from the tip of her nose, whipping it down to her side after a second she marched forward with all the determinedness of the slayer shining through.

"Am I teaching you to fight, or is this an informal tell-all," Buffy all but snapped.

Tongue flittering out to whet his lip, the Doctor feigned puzzlement for a moment, "I thought it was foreplay."

"Oh!" Buffy gasped at his behavior, "That's it! I'm going to have to start segregating you and Jack."

Jack's hand found its resting place on his chest, "It wasn't me mum."

Rolling her eyes at Jack's 'outraged' statement, Buffy dropped her sword and flopped down onto her back, "Oh I know Jack. You're like an airborne virus."

"Sparring over," the Doctor almost pouted, "But I was this close to disarming you!"

"Right," Buffy assured him, "This close."

Pinching her fingers together she raised her measurement up for the Doctor's approval. He scowled and took her fingers and squished them together until there was only a hairsbreadth between them.

"That's better," he smiled brightly reducing Buffy to a melty mess inside.

To be certain Buffy had met every sort of man of every sort of charm, and she was resistant to them all—well except for Jack's. It hadn't taken long before simply a pretty face lost meaning. Sure there had been other men in the past, a dozen or two. But few if any besides Jack had done this to her, messed with her so bad.

Sighing, Buffy pushed the breath out heavily and shoved her feelings down deep. She barely noted the man in question dropping down beside her. They were almost touching. Her body twisted out of instinct, hips first. Buffy's body didn't still until she rested on her stomach and there was nearly a foot of safety space between her and the Doctor.

Of course, Jack, with all his elegance and eloquence, chose that moment to move from his resting place. If she had been focused, Buffy might have known that Jack's weight would come to rest fully across her body.

"Mm, wrestling, is it time for that," Jack murmured in her ear.

"No, but it might be naptime. You're awful warm and toasty goodness."

An indignant sound issued from Jack before his hands moved to Buffy's sides. His fingers danced mercilessly and Buffy attempted to squirm beneath him.

"Jack! Stop it," Buffy demanded.

"Mmm….No!"

"Jack! Doctor, a little help, here," Buffy begged between gasps of air.

The Doctor crawled bonelessly across the distance until he could brace one hand on Jack's side. He pushed heavily and was rewarded when the other man dislodged from atop Buffy. The Doctor's arm flopped to drape across Buffy's back, and he tucked his hand under her hip in a possessive move though it was unplanned and primarily instinct.

Buffy tensed minutely under the overly familiar touch before snickering at Jack's pout and relaxing slowly.

"You know Jack, if your face stays that way, I'm going to have to start calling you like the dog you should have been, Jackie-boy," Buffy teased.

The pout turned into a glare, "I hate you."

"So how exactly did you two meet," the Doctor queried after clearing his throat.

Buffy frowned, this part of the story was problematic, "Hm, well I was being held captive on a space-station turned game-station. And some idiot walks right into my cell, first contact I'd had in years."

Light seemed to dawn on the Doc as shadow simultaneously descended over Jack. The game-station Jack had been abandoned on by _the_ one and only Doctor had been where Jack had saved Buffy.

Buffy's hand inched across the floor and curled around Jack's. It was a small gesture, but between the pair it spoke torrents.

* * *

Shifting on Jack's lap, Buffy leaned back into his chest, "So, where in the wacky worlds are we?"

"Ahh, well," the Doctor stumbled as he played at the console, "I'm not really sure."

Her eyes slid closed, "I'm sensing a pattern."

Jack gently butted his girl's shoulder with his head, "But you like surprises!"

Buffy slithered off Jack's lap and skipped happily over to the doors, "You can think that, Jackie."

The blonde was halfway across a bridge in the middle of a Venice inspired town, before the two brunettes reached her after their stumbling run from the TARDIS.

Jack frowned as he linked arms with Buffy and glanced down at the canal beneath them, "It's Venice 2.0."

"2.0," the Doctor asked as he slid his hands into his pants pockets.

"Yeah," the immortal man shrugged, "It's clean."

Buffy rolled her eyes skyward as the Doctor rose to Jack's explanation-like bait, "How does that make it 2.0?"

"Because."

Buffy whistled in astonishment and slipped away from Jack, "I'll leave you to your…cleanliness issue. I'm gonna go exploring."

Buffy got all the way to the next bridge, with the Doctor and Jack trailing behind arguing, before she encountered anyone. Her eyes were wide. She'd seen everything, well nearly everything, but shock still had value. It wasn't strange, the sight of two men in chains flanking a scantily clad woman, but it wasn't Buffy's everyday menu.

The woman was pretty enough, but she was sneering…not at Buffy, but at the pair that had just arrived behind her.

"You leave your slaves unchained, how you must trust them," she spoke with all the scorn in the world.

"A little trust goes a long way," Buffy returned.

The woman moved forward and picked at Buffy's turtleneck, "Where are you from?"

Buffy shrugged, "Here, there…nowhere."

Jack coughed, and Buffy slammed her booted foot down on his toes. He coughed again, only this cough was not voluntary.

The woman frowned, "Come, my mentor will know what to do."

The woman didn't ask for an answer she just started off down the road, leaving Buffy and the four men to follow.

* * *

"Your slaves are fine specimens of the negligible sex, but you, my dear, hardly dress properly," Mary-Ann muttered as she laced up the side of the red silk dress.

The woman, Chrissy, had taken them to Mary-Ann. Mary-Ann had quickly taken Buffy into hand getting her into shape. Buffy was a little resistant.

Buffy bit her tongue, not really in for being boiled alive because of the muscle between her teeth. Jack and the Doctor were sitting on the floor by the door. They'd already been scolded for not taking better care of their 'Mistress' and they'd been re-dressed in more appropriate clothes. Really, it was a skirt with long slits up each side. Buffy didn't mind the view. Both Jack and the good Doctor looked very fine sans shirts.

Mary-Ann stepped back and clapped her hands, "There, you look lovely. Now you are ready to meet Our Grand Lady, she will find a place for you. I'll have my student take you."

Buffy nodded, "That's very kind of you."

"It is only what our sex would do," Mary-Ann smiled proudly.

The older woman helped Buffy down from the stand before turning and tossing Buffy's new luggage, that held all three's old things, at Jack and the Doc. They both grunted as it hit them full force.

"Up-up," Mary-Ann commanded, they were quick to rise, if not graceful.

Buffy smirked at the pair of them before walking past them and towards Chrissy and her two boys. Putting a little extra sway into her step Buffy beckoned over her shoulder with her finger. Jack and the Doctor hopped to, Jack, and to a lesser extent the Doctor tipping their heads to the side and watching their companion walk away. Well if they were going to be forced in slavery they might as well enjoy the perks that having to follow behind a very fit, gorgeous, blonde had to offer.

Halfway up a hill, Chrissy pulled Buffy aside, "I must go attend a…personal matter. I'll leave Alex and Brandon to guide you. When you get to the palace ask for an audience with Our Grand Lady."

"Why are you going," Buffy asked slowly, not necessarily disturbed.

Chrissy giggled softly, "Shh, don't tell, but my friend Sary arranged a meeting with a Provider."

"Ah," Buffy smiled conspiratorially with the woman.

Chrissy disappeared after a moment. Buffy threw a glance back at Jack and the Doctor before skipping to catch the other two men.

Linking arms between them, Buffy smiled sweetly, "So, what's up with this place? I mean, I get that women are the fairer sex and all, but even I don't think guys should be lead around on a leash. Unless they like it," she added as an afterthought.

Alex stiffened, "I do not understand, Mistress."

"Slavery is wrong-o," Buffy simplified. "And what's a provider?"

Brandon looked at her carefully, "A breeder."

"Whoa," Buffy came to a halt, bringing her two escorts to a stop beside her, and Jack and the Doctor to skid to a standstill behind her. "You mean some grandstanding Bitch tells you when to breed and when to keep it in your pants!"

"That's not cool," Jack exclaimed. "My boys need to fly free."

"Swim," the Doctor corrected him as he rocked on his newly sandaled feet.

Jack nodded before affirming, "Swim free."

"It has been this way for many centuries. Those of the negligible sex who defy the law are hunted down and made an example of," Alex spoke briskly.

"So this hasn't always been the norm, I mean male slavery," the Doctor asked thoughtfully.

Jack was never 'respectable', so the outfit didn't affect him, he was rather enjoying the change of wardrobe. There was, on the other hand, a record impact upon the Doctor. While the Doctor was a Jack-of-all-trades in a blue box, he'd never pulled off saving a world bare-chested, and wearing only a plush red skirt. The Doctor's enemies, of which there were many, would die of laughter. The Doctor didn't seem to mind…or notice really. Well that wasn't true, the cool breeze coming off the water had turned his nipples into hard, uncomfortable, points.

"No, when Our Grand Lady arrived long ago, she showed us that our sex was fallible and the Ladies were the cradle of life," Alex answered after a small group passed going the opposite way.

"The same woman has been in charge," Buffy asked incredulously.

Brandon nodded, "It was a sign, when she arrived bringing about the revolution. She said that our Mistresses were above us, because she cannot die, and those of our Ladies who are exemplary will rise to her rank."

Buffy frowned, "So why do I think that you two aren't exactly 'Jump-in-the-boat' fellows."

"There is talk of an overthrow, but we are too undecided, not united," Brandon continued.

The Doctor went to place his hands in his overcoat pockets, only he wasn't wearing a coat, "Ah, well, it's getting a little drafty, and I'm up for a little mayhem."

Buffy shrugged, "I could do with some mayhem, but I _am_ enjoying the view."

Fidgeting slightly, and wishing desperately he had his favorite converse on, the Doctor licked his lips ignoring the way Buffy was gazing at her two 'slaves'.

Jack waggled his eyebrows, "If I help, can _I_ enjoy your view later."

"If you behave, and we keep those uniforms," Buffy returned the eyebrow waggle.

The Doctor coughed nervously and resisted the urge to tug on his nonexistent collar, "Shall we, ah, continue on the way?"

Jack winked at Buffy, "To see the wizard?"

"Only if the wizard is a man hating woman," Buffy told him. "Alex, Brandon, you might want to, I don't know, make yourselves scarce for an hour or so."

* * *

Jack paced the opulent waiting room, a golden curtain shielded their view of the dais, "So, what's the plan?"

Buffy and the Doctor shrugged simultaneously.

"Plan," Buffy asked.

"What plan," the Doctor finished.

Buffy grinned at him, "Precisely."

Jack added a shrug of his own, "Works for me."

"Everything works for you, Jack," Buffy rolled her eyes tiredly rather than disgustedly.

A contemplative half smile twisted Jack's features handsomely, "Yeah," he sighed almost proudly.

The eye roll came from the Doctor this time.

The curtain began to rise and Jack and the Doc jumped into position behind their 'Mistress'. Sitting in the egg chair was the Grand Lady. Behind Buffy, Jack's gag reflex triggered and the Doctor froze, trying to prevent the massive shudder that was threatening to overtake him.

Buffy bit her lip to keep the laughter in. A strong mental image of a demon with droopy skin popped into her head. Clive…Cleo…Clay…Clint…Claude, the name wouldn't come to the surface. She shrugged it off.

The woman on the dais was perfect, perfect to a gruesome point. A nose that was too slim, gaunt cheeks, over-defined cheekbones, and far too puffy lips. A plastic surgery nightmare to be short. There were certain things, however, that time had…ravaged.

"Good God," Buffy exclaimed at last. "I mean, I've seen Shar-Peis with less skin folds. Earlobes aren't meant to touch your shoulders!"

"Silence," the woman commanded in a monotone happy voice as she ran a hand through her…green, snot green, hair.

Buffy tried to hold back the snicker and failed, unsurprisingly, "Wait, I think I've heard this joke. Stop me, if _you've_ heard it. 'A red head walks into a salon and the hair stylist says your hair is gorgeous and the redhead runs her hand through her hair and says it's natural. Then a brunette walks in and the stylist says I love you hair and the brunette runs her hand through her hair and says it's natural. Then a blonde with green streaks walks in and the stylist says "That's different..." The blonde sneezes, wipes it on her hand and runs her hand through her hair and says, "It's natural!"," Buffy mimed the action with a wink.

Jack snorted loudly before cackling uncontrollably and doubling over as his muscles contracted without his permission. The Doctor wasn't far behind, the horror had fled and the hilarity had taken up residence. Unlike Jack, he remained mostly upright though he had one armed wrapped around his chest and the other smothering the noise that was bubbling up from his toes.

"Silence, I command you to be silent," the Grand Lady smiled happily.

Buffy frowned, "You know, usually when I insult people, they get more indignant." She gasped and narrowed her eyes, "You're a robot!"

Abruptly Jack stopped laughing and leaned forward until his chin rested on Buffy's shoulder, "Robot?"

"No pulse, plus she smells like motor oil," Buffy shrugged and the Doctor hemmed.

"This is a job for me then," he exclaimed happily as he reached down the front of his skirt to retrieve his sonic screwdriver.

Buffy stared at him, "I don't even want to know where you hid that, and I'm the master at hiding things in places nothing should be hidden."

Jack nodded, "I once found a battery bomb…ah, that's a Buffy-story for another time."

Buffy smirked due to Jack's silence. Her elbow might have had a part in that.

The Doctor leveled the sonic screwdriver at the robot and clicked.

Buffy frowned again, deeply perturbed, "Isn't it this usually the part of the fight where the bad guy gets all, fighty? I mean, this just feels way too easy."

As if to prove her point, the saggy robot sparked before whirring to a dead stop, no pun intended. Anticlimactic as the world savage was, Buffy linked arms with the Doc and Jack and happily marched outside. Ready get back on the TARDIS.

Halfway there, a crowd of men came rushing towards the threesome.

Buffy shrunk backward, "Oh, oh dear."

Alex laughed happily, "She's dead! Why is she dead?"

Jack smiled salaciously, "She was never alive she was a robot."

"We're free," Brandon cheered.

Buffy frowned as she felt the Doctor move forward. She expected the lecture to come, even the hand holding.

She cut him off before he could start, "You can't punish them, the women. If you do, you'll be just as bad as they were. You have to be understanding. It's up to you to right the wrongs. But don't get uppity," she finished brusquely.

Stretching lightly, Buffy turned back to Jack and the Doctor, "Let's get a move on. I'm in the mood for a catnap. Fighting evil is hard work."

She left no room for argument.

* * *

Dropping their bag of clothes onto the floor, Jack shimmied his hips, "I've been wanting to do that all day."

Buffy shook her head as she unlaced her dress, "See, most guys would be wanting to burp or something gross like that—but you want to shake your ass in a skirt."

Jack licked his lips, "And what a fine ass it is. So robot..."

The Doctor chuckled, "At least it wasn't Cybermen."

"Did you see her boobs, to her knees! Talk about too much time in the sun, her skin was all droopy. At least the robot made of me was hot, if a bit slutty," Buffy admitted with slight frown.

Jack shook himself from the thought of robo-Buffy, "It was sort of like Stepford for men—I kind of liked it."

"You would," Buffy sighed.

The Doctor smiled as he played with the console, "Well I'd say we did fairly well for ourselves."

Buffy walked over to the Doctor, trailing a hand across his shoulders, "You can't hold their hands. You have to let them stand on their own, clean up their own problems, or else they'll never learn," she whispered.

Sliding the dress straps off her shoulders, Buffy walked through a door and deeper into the TARDIS, calling back loudly, "If the next place we land is as psycho as this place, I'm not getting off!"

* * *

Plopping down onto the bench next to the Doctor, Jack propped his feet up. Buffy was sleeping peacefully, which left the two men to entertain themselves.

Jack sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, "How long does karma last?"

The Doctor quirked a brow at his…friend, he tested the word, "I don't know, why?"

"Because for some reason I always end up as Buffy's lackey," Jack frowned.

He attempted to smother the first burst, but by the third, the Doctor was breathing roughly and his cheeks were ruddy from the hysterics.

"I have a feeling everybody ends up her lackey," the Doctor attempted to comfort Jack.

The immortal shrugged, "Well my only comfort is that you're as deep in it as me."

It was underhanded, but the silence was more than enough of an answer for both men.

* * *

Please review, the next chapter will be back with The Torchwood Team…what kind of trouble could they get into. Chapter 16 should have the reunion of Jack and the gang, but that is a way off…now to go find some beef jerky…says the vegetarian.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood.  
A/N: This is set somewhere after Donna and before Martha and quite obviously after the whole shenanigans of season one torchwood. Thanks to all those who haven't ditched this story. I have been trying to cattle prod my own but into gear, but for some reason my fingers just won't type what they're supposed to.

P.S. This is My Birthday Special...Please Enjoy!

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* * *

Owen glared at his sink. It'd been days since he'd been home long enough to think about food. He hadn't wanted to be alone, but Sundays presented a unique challenge. Bars didn't open 'til late, and even then they were more empty than full.

So there he stood. Glaring at a sink full of crusted over dishes. Owen squinted, was that spaghetti sauce or chocolate sauce?

Shaking himself bodily Owen sighed and grabbed the soap. Holding the bottle over the pile of dishes, he squeezed gently. He flinched. It was liked pulling a trigger, slow, steady. Jack. Jack, why did it always go back to him?

Dropping the soap back on the counter with a thunk, Owen flicked the tap on. Rubbing one hand over his eyes, Owen finally un-paused his life and sunk his hands into the hot water. Groaning in disgust at the reddish, bubbly liquid in his sink.

"Christ, just what I fucking need," he slammed his hand down onto the counter. "Stupid fucking landlord, and his fucking rusty water pipes!" Owen's yell echoed.

The anger creases smoothed out and his eyes widened as he watched the water pour into the sink. It was red, and certainly not clear.

"Fuck," he muttered, summing up his problem quite nicely.

* * *

Tosh smiled up at Myfawny as she circled over head, it was her turn to watch over the hub and the rift. Ianto had been wearing himself thin, and the coffee had suffered as a consequence.

"I know you miss Jack, girl. We all do," Tosh trailed off.

Smiling to herself, the Japanese woman flipped open her lunchbox and picked at the wilting sandwich.

"I won't mind being able to go out for lunch again when he's back though," she whispered.

The rift monitor had been quiet nearly all day. Just a blip on the radar an hour ago, nothing big that needed investigating, so Tosh was not bored, just relaxed. She'd already updated her filing system, color coded her new rift scale, and drawn tiny doodles of hearts with Owen's name in them.

Tossing the tainted pages down with a frustrated sigh, Tosh stood and moved to the stairs that circled the hub tower that stretched upwards, and through the roof. Resting her fingers lightly against the cool metal, the water that coursed down the structure met her skin and traveled down her hand in rivulets.

Glancing down at through the stairs at the water the water in the basin of the tower, Tosh stifled a gasp. It was red, she laughed at last, after a moment of shock and horror. Tosh realized that Myfawny must have gotten a little messy with her last meal. Moving her hand from the water she went to cover her mouth, only to stop and gag.

Her hand was glimmering red. She twisted to look at the tower. Instead of the brilliant silver metal she found a waterfall of red.

"Oh my lord," Tosh gasped as she backed into the chain link rope that served as railing.

* * *

Ianto Jones yawned at the sight before him. He should have been working, but Tosh and Gwen had insisted he take the day off. That left Ianto leaning on his apartment balcony, watching the neighbor wash his dog.

Under other circumstances, Ianto might find the scene humorous, but nothing was really entertaining these days. Even the dog running the man in wet circles wasn't very funny. Jack had wanted a dog, briefly, last month. Owen had put his foot down saying he didn't need one more idiot to patch up. Jack had eventually let it go, but of course, Ianto had found a brochure for Newfoundlands tucked under a case file on Jack's desk a few days ago.

Pushing the memories to the backburner, Ianto tried to focus on the scene below him. His head cocked to the side as the golden hair of the pup starting clumping in red patches. Ianto followed the red up…the hose…the water was red. Almost like thin tomato sauce, Ianto smiled.

It was completely out of his hands, he had to go to work.

* * *

Gwen swung her and Rhys' connected hands.

"So what do you want to do for diner," She asked him.

Rhys frowned and sat down on the ledge of the park fountain, "I dunno. Pizza I suppose, maybe a movie. It's been awhile since I've had you all to myself."

Gwen perched beside him, "I know."

"Jack's been giving you more time off lately. Is everything okay?"

Gwen nodded with a smile, "Yes, everything's fine, Jack's….well he's been a little distant lately."

"Ah, well," Rhys muttered. "So, after a lovely day with my girlfriend, what will I do now?"

Gwen chuckled softly and turned her head away. She froze when she caught sight of the water in the fountain. It was red, and it smelled…metallic. All hopes that it was some practical joker who threw die or punch mix into the water flittered away.

"Rhys, dear, I have to go to work," Gwen bit her lip.

"What? Oh come on, Gwen," Rhys sighed.

Gwen gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she went running through the park and towards the wharf.

Rhys stood, wiped a hand over his face and mused to himself, "This always happens, always."

* * *

Tosh fidgeted on her chair. The decision to call in the team or not bouncing in her mind. With a start, she realized that the decision had already been taken out of her hands. The street platform started to descend carrying Gwen, footsteps echoed through the tunnel access, and the cog door rolled open to reveal Ianto.

Almost simultaneously the four team members met at the center and blurted the one thing none of them wanted, "We have a problem."

Owen half smiled as he spoke, "Oh good, so we're all the same page then?"

"Yes," Tosh agreed. "It lasted for about a minute, everywhere in Cardiff. I took a sample it's blood, AB-positive."

Ianto shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up at the tower, it was sparkling silver. What a sight it must have been to see blood sluicing down the sides of it.

"Tosh, contact the authorities, tell them it was some a malfunction with the machinery at the water plant. Owen, check the blood for anything and everything. Gwen, you're with me," Ianto nodded before grabbing the SUV keys and heading out the hub door, Gwen trailing behind.

* * *

Tapping their comms into life, Gwen and Ianto stepped out onto the walkway above the water tank. Owen and Tosh had reported everything to be normal at their end, so it was up to the other duo to solve the problem.

Ianto took one look at the water in the tank, sniffed, and then rolled his eyes.

"Well, we've found the source, now if only we had a life guard to fish him out," he told Gwen drolly.

Gwen snickered, "We should have brought Owen along."

Floating face down in pink water was a bright red demon.

After much maneuvering and sweating, Gwen and Ianto managed to collect the body and a few samples.

Gwen tapped her comm, "We're on our way back. Have Owen ready for autopsy."

* * *

"Nothing," Owen grunted as he pushed the corpse into the cooler and locked the door. "Well, as long as your nothing means almost nothing."

"Which means," Ianto prompted.

Owen stripped off his dirty rubber gloves and picked up the chart, "Whatever caused the change in water broke down too quickly. It might have been natural, a protein or acid, or it could have been foreign. Though I would tend towards natural, I found glands on its finger tips that are probably used in feeding. Might be that it secretes blood to attract lunch."

"And as pleasant as that sounds," Ianto smiled tightly. "So, you're sure it was the alien that did this?"

"As sure as a man who fights aliens can be," Owen smirked.

* * *

Owen wiped down the last of his tools. He could hear the others upstairs, making plans, laughing, pretending everything was okay. It wasn't. It couldn't be. None of them knew enough to survive for much longer alone. Jack was the one who was supposed to protect them from what was dangerous. Jack had left them.

Forcing out the stale breath, Owen spun on his heel and nearly dropped his tray.

"What the…" he whispered.

A girl, a young girl, blonde, lay on his autopsy table. Fully clothed, and distinctly breathing. She sat up, spun her legs over the side and looked at him.

"My heart broke. I couldn't be saved," her voice was sweet and light and…happy.

Owen tried to swallow, but his body wasn't obeying him.

"Did you know that cockroaches can live for ten days without their heads," she smiled toothily at him. "How do they know where they're going?"

"Who—who are you," Owen asked tentatively.

She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "I'm Acceptance. 100 people a year choke to death on ballpoint pens. What a way to go, I mean, I thought the way I died was stupid."

Owen licked his lips, "How did you die."

Her shoulders slumped in exasperation, "I told you, my heart broke."

"Right."

"Your heart is going to break too you know," the teen told him chirpily.

Owen's gaze slid to his shoes for a moment, "It already is."

Her giggle was unearthly, like a record that had been played too many times, she was out of phase.

"No it's not, not yet anyways, Owen," she smiled again.

Gooseflesh erupted down his back and Owen shook himself instinctually. He focused back on the girl, only she was gone. Like she'd never even been there in the first place.

"Owen," Gwen yelled down the steps. "We've just had another report of ghost sightings! Ianto and Tosh are going to distribute retcon and see if they can learn anything. We're holding the fort down, 'kay Owen?"

Owen re-gripped the tray he was holding and called back, "Righty-o."

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So Today is my 20th birthday. Go figure right. My present this year was...a hand knit 16th season 4th Doctor scarf. It's pretty epically long. Hehe, it's somewhere at like 15 and a half feet and i'm not even 5 feet tall. So in honor of getting my doctor who scarf...and my birthday here's a chapter dears.


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